


Despondency

by startaroux



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Dark, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Loneliness, POV Second Person, Self-Worth Issues, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28122453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startaroux/pseuds/startaroux
Summary: All you want is to just crawl back into bed to be done with this day, with these feelings of contempt that don't belong inside you.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 61





	Despondency

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please mind the tags.
> 
> I've said before that I can't write angst, but I guess I lied.

You're doing this again. It's another day, you wake up, roll out of your hammock, and trudge toward your locker.

No one else is awake yet-- they never are. This early in the morning, all that exists are you and the rolling waves slapping the deck to keep you company. And that's… fine.

You grab your clothes for the day, a nice sweater and pair of jeans, before trudging up the ladder to the deck. 

You don't realize you've foregone your usual suit and tie until you get to the bathroom, but that's also the moment you realize maybe your heart just isn't in it today.

The work still needs to be done, of course. Not a soul on earth could keep up with the demands of feeding your captain and crew like you do, and you wouldn't trust anyone else with the job either.

So even with your eyelids drooping and your heart in your stomach, you clean yourself and get dressed. Still looking presentable and professional, just-- more comfortable today.

Breakfast is basic and you know it. It's barely enough to squeak by without leaving anyone wanting more, but you _accomplished_ something today, didn't you? You accomplished something even while feeling the way you do and that's something to be proud of, right?

You tell yourself it is. 

But still, that small lift in your mood is almost nothing compared to the massive pile of dishes occupying the sink, waiting. 

You want to cry because you're _exhausted_. You've been exhausted since you forced your eyes open this morning and the mountains of work you have to climb today are almost enough to make you feel sick.

They loom over you and all you want is to just crawl back into bed to be done with this day, with these feelings of contempt that don't belong inside you. 

Then you tell yourself that there will be no lunch for your friends if these dishes don't get done any time soon. They'll be hungry. 

That thought spurs you into action, at least. Not without a shot of guilt and self-loathing, though.

You take it one dish at a time and lose yourself in the motions -- _scrubbing, drying, scrubbing, drying, scrubbing, drying_ \-- and by the time you come back to your senses, it's almost 10 AM and there's more prep work to be done.

You haven't even planned lunch yet, much less started to prepare it, god forbid you even _think_ about dinner.

Maybe a break would be good. You'll take a break for your own health, if nothing else. 

As you sit against the railing on the upper deck puffing on a cigarette that barely does anything for you anymore, you briefly wonder, what would happen if you decided to jump? What would happen if a sea king rose out of the water to make you its midmorning snack and you just… let it?

How long would it take for anyone to even notice you were gone? Hours? Maybe when someone got really hungry and came looking for you? Surely no sooner than that.

You shake your head to disallow any other intrusive thoughts from taking root in your brain. You _know_ you'd never go that far. You know you have far too much to live for, too many things left that you want to do.

But the mind sure is a tricky thing isn't it? So you go back to work to distract yourself. It's close to snack time, anyway.

The mosshead's stupid little insults actually hurt today for some reason. As you pass him by and he mocks some insignificant part of you to try and start a fight, you take it personally in a way you normally never would. In a way that's almost irrational.

You know he doesn't mean them. You _know_ he's just messing around, trying to get a rise out of you, baiting you into jabbing back like you always do. 

And _god_ do you try. You try so hard for some sense of normalcy today.

But your chest feels like lead and your nose burns from the fucking tears you won't let fall because of your idiotic sense of pride. _No one_ should know how you feel right now. It's too personal. It isn't _right._ You refuse to be a burden on those you care about.

So you stop and you leave. Find somewhere to hide yourself. Interactions aren't something you can handle right now, so it's probably better to just be alone, right?

Isn't it better this way? You've been alone all along anyway, all your life. Why start trying to change that now?

You _care_ and you _love_ with everything you have in you but where has that gotten you so far? In a cage? On a rock? _Does anyone even love you back?_

Your brain tells you yes; that surely, _surely_ you're loved in return. That the buzzing, warm feelings you get when Chopper falls asleep in your lap or when Luffy licks his plate clean or when Nami smiles aren't just one-sided. That they all feel just the same about you, but--

Your heart asks for proof.

Your heart asks for a time when someone sought you out for nothing more than your company and conversation. Your heart asks for something, _anything_ that says you aren't overlooked or unwanted.

And try as you might… try as you might, today you just can't give it that. You just don't have it in you.

So you go back to your kitchen and you bury yourself in your work so you don't have to think about it as much. So you don't have to tell yourself you're just being dramatic, there's nothing wrong, it's all in your head.

It's fine. You're fine.

This will pass. Eventually, this will pass. 

It always does, right?


End file.
